


Yoga

by Kass



Series: The Sentinel fanworks [20]
Category: The Sentinel
Genre: M/M, PWP, Poptart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-11-30
Updated: 2008-11-30
Packaged: 2017-10-02 03:24:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kass/pseuds/Kass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A yoga lesson.  Originally posted in 2000.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yoga

**Author's Note:**

> More of a poptart than a real story.

Jim walked down the stairs and desire hit him in the gut.

It was an ungodly early hour--five-thirty, the sun was glinting red over the tips of distant buildings--and he'd expected to be the only one awake. He took pleasure in puttering around the kitchen, making coffee, listening to his room-mate sleep.

But his room-mate wasn't sleeping. He was doing yoga. In the middle of the living room. In a pair of faded sweatpants and nothing else.

Rocked far onto his back, knees bent around his ears, pillow beneath his hips, ass in the air. Soft cloth outlining the curve of his thigh, the line of his cock. Hands to the sides, palms up. Eyes closed. Breath deep and rhythmic.

In Jim's mind the picture shifted: Blair, on his back, hands twisted in sheets, pillow beneath his hips, ass in the air, gasping and sighing as Jim's finger moved in and out. The heat of him. The sound of him. And after one finger, two. And after two --

Blair groaned and the sound--like his fantasies, yet not--startled Jim out of his reverie. Blair's legs descended, he rocked to sitting, he opened his eyes. "Man that feels good," he said.

Jim couldn't quite speak. "Mm," he said, trying for nonchalant.

Then Jim realized his erection was poking out of the front of his boxers. He flushed.

Blair licked his lips (consciously? unconsciously?) and flowed to his feet. Standing now, a few feet from his partner, hair tousled, perfectly relaxed.

Maybe not perfectly relaxed. His sweats were form-fitting and it was clear part of him was wide awake and standing at attention.

I'll be damned, Jim thought. They stared at each other for another moment before Blair smiled. Easy. Confident. Aroused.

"Think you could show me some of those positions sometime?" Jim asked, voice rough.

"We don't have to be at work for at least three hours."

Could it be this easy? After all this time, could it really be this easy?

Only one way to find out. Jim smiled back.

"You're on, Teach."

And Jim motioned with his head towards the upstairs, and Blair nodded, and they bounded up the stairs, and next thing Jim knew he was flat on his back on his unmade bed with Blair kneeling over him. Blair was stronger than he expected (maybe there was something to this yoga thing)--he could have dislodged him if he'd wanted to...but this wasn't an attack, and he didn't want it to stop. God, he didn't want it to stop.

"What do you want?" Blair murmured, rubbing against Jim gently. The slide of his sweats against Jim's erection--through the cloth of his boxers, across the exposed head, back through the cloth--was melting his capacity for speech.

Anything. Everything. "You," Jim managed.

Blair chuckled, low and rich. "We have choices," he said. "I could touch you..." and his fingers snaked around one nipple and brushed it, lightly, and Jim couldn't help gasping. "Or I could taste you..." And his mouth followed his fingers, a tiny kiss, teeth and tongue hot and wet. He pulled away.

"Kiss me," Jim said, and Blair moved up his body, and as they kissed Jim flipped them over, bracing himself over Blair, and Blair seemed to like that. A great deal, if his sigh was any indication.

And as Jim thrust gently against Blair's hip he was reminded of his fantasy, and he pulled away a moment to yank Blair's sweatpants down, and threw them with his boxers on the floor.

He bent and nuzzled Blair's cock, and Blair made a small sound of wanting, and Jim let his tongue travel from base to tip, exalting in the explosion of flavor.

"God that's good," Blair murmured. And then, a moment later, "Will you fuck me?"

Jim pulled back, almost dizzied by the strength of his desire. "You'd let me?"

"I just asked, didn't I?" Blair looked smug and delighted and absolutely edible.

Jim grabbed a pillow, pulled it next to Blair, then turned Blair over. "Is that a yes?" came Blair's voice from underneath.

Not deigning to respond, Jim gently parted Blair's ass and gave it a long, thorough lick.

Blair moaned. Loudly.

Oh, this was going to be *good*.

By the time Jim had finished his ministrations Blair was whimpering. He squeezed a little K-Y on his finger and slowly, gently, pushed it inside.

"Oh God. Please, Jim."

Out, then back in, deeper this time. Another plea from Blair.

Two fingers. "God I want you." It was a voice he'd never heard from Blair before: low, primal, almost a command.

"Keep talking like that and I'm gonna come right now," Jim managed.

"*Now*, Jim."

And he slicked himself and positioned himself and pushed inside.

And groaned. So perfect, so tight, so hot.

"So good," Blair murmured, and rocked back against him with a little twist of his hips.

And then they were both close, both straining, and Jim didn't want it to end but he couldn't help moving, it was like his heartbeat, like breathing, unstoppable. He came with a final deep thrust and Blair stiffened and choked out a cry and jerked beneath him, and he could smell Blair's semen, and that seemed to wring one final pulse from him, and they collapsed in a heap.

* * *

  
"Sorry, Jim, you're going to have to redo the papers for the Nelson case; Rhonda spilled coffee on the ones you filed yesterday."

"No problem, Simon."

Banks gave the detective a skeptical glance. "No problem?"

Jim grinned. "Like I said. No problem."

Simon turned to Blair. "Is he okay, Sandburg?"

"We, ah, did some yoga this morning," Blair said, trying for a straight face. "I think it was good for both of us."

He looked at his partner, eyes laughing. "Good for you, Jim?"

Jim shot him a quick glare but couldn't seem to stop smiling himself. "Yep."

"Hm," said Simon. "If it's making you this much of a pushover, maybe I should get all the men doing yoga."

Jim choked on his coffee. Blair patted him on the back, unconcerned. "Maybe," Blair said with a grin. "Maybe."


End file.
